here comes the apocalypse
by misslamonta
Summary: Set in the OOTP and unchanged future. Two boys are stuck in the middle of a raging war. One is the chosen one, the other a weaker brother. What happens when they both attend Hogwarts... No slash
1. Chapter 1

Here comes the apocalypse...

Getting excited with the release of HP and half blood prince this summer, and since I have officially finished all of my exams I though I would write a story. Characters belong to eith J.K rowling or WB. No infringement intended.

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Prologue

The wizarding and wiccaning worlds had always been separate entaties. The wiccans power was natural, a heritage passed down from generation to generation, making them inatly magical beings. Their magic was such a part of the natural world that they had to be very careful with the consequence of their magical actions, so as not to upset the balance. The wizards on the other hand, possessed the ability to manipulate the energy around them, meaning that they did not have to follow the same strict rules. It also meant that wizards did not always follow the prescribed genetic path, leading to surprising transformations.

These two separate sectors of magic rarely mixed- each was too busy with their own personal aims. The wiccans had their never ending battle with evil to fight, whereas the wizards had created their own government and society. Both disapproved of what the other was doing, but neither interfered as long as the golden rule was kept; keep magic a secret.

This all changed with the death of the charmed ones, and the ascending of the twice blessed child to the Source of all evil, coinsiding with the long feared return of Lord Voldemort. Both worlds were suddenly faced with a raging war which threatened to spill over into the mortal world. And the situation only got worse. Because these two dark lords valued power above all else, and neither would bow before the other. So the wiccaning and wizarding worlds fought for the first time, because of the greed and power lust of two individuals touched by true evil. All that was achieved was more destruction.

In the middle of this deadly power struggle stood two boys, little more than children, yet holding the responsibility of the world on their shoulders. Both had lost all they held dear, and witnessed the undenialable harshness of death. Both had seen far more than any fifthteen year old should have. But they would see more...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Harry woke suddenly, sweat dripping down his forehead. The dreams were getting worse. Slowly he reached for his glasses on the floor beside him, putting them on before surveying the room he awoke to. The bedroom in No.12 Grimwald Place smelt strongly of musk, complimented by the thick layers of dust clearly visible on the floor. Shadows hung deep in the air, sinister and frightening to anyone who hadn't seen as much as Harry Potter had.

The boy in question gently rubbed his head, trying to clear it after the painful nightmare he had just experienced. It was the same dream he had been having all summer; the dark corridor which seemed to go on forever, walking through it, desperate to get to the end of it. And then, there it was. The door. Just as he was reaching out for it, the dream ends. Every time. Harry didn't have a clue what the dream meant but he knew that it was important. And if it was important it probably had something to do with Lord Voldemort. Harry sighed, sinking back into the rickety camp bed that would be his until summer ended. It seemed his whole life was based around Voldemort; it had been Voldemort who had murdered his parents, forcing him to go live with the Dursleys in the first place. It had been Voldemort who had then attempted to kill him no less than three times, before returning to his full power last year. And things were just going to get worse.

Harry absentmindedly wondered if he should tell Professor Dumbledore about his dreams, then quickly discarded the idea. Dumbledore obviously had more important things to do. Otherwise he might have mentioned to Harry that he had people following him to make sure it was "safe". Well that idea had failed spectactually. Instead of staying out of danger Harry had been forced to perform magic in front of a muggle to protect him and his cousin from dementors. He also was very close from being expelled from Hogwarts. And all the while his two best friends, Harry and Hermione had been with the Order, knowing exactly what was happening, being able to help and do something.

A war was coming. And Harry was not going to stand at the sidelines while the people he loved got killed. He was going to fight. No matter what Dumbledore said.

Three thousand miles away, a boy of similar age also woke, from a terrible dream, sweating. His heart racing, Chris propped himself up in the dank doorway, staring out at the depressing mess which was once one of the greatest cities in the world. San Francisco now looked like it had been hit by a nuclear bomb. But of course it had been hit by something a lot more powerful and far more deadly than that. Wyatt Halliwell, the son of two of the most powerful forces of good, had become the Source of all evil. And if wasn't all, he had decided that ruling demons wasn't enough, he had to also have control of humans as well. What followed had been a nightmare Chris would never forget. His beloved older brother had isolated the city they had lived all of their lives, cutting it off from outside help. He then progressed through it, slaughtering everything that stood in his way. Including his own family.

It had been a year since Piper had died. A year of pain and frustration. None of the Halliwells knew how to cope without the strong matriarch of their family. Not only this but the charmed ones had been broken, with no extra sister to restablish the bond. This left the two remaining sisters, Phoebe and Paige, extremely venerable, especially considering the number of enemies they had gained since they first found out that they were witches. Six months later both were dead, trying to safe innocents, when they couldn't even safe themselves. With the death of all the charmed ones, the family was thrown into turmoil. It had lost everything so quickly, and now had no female influence to rebuild itself on. But they weren't the only thing in trouble. The underworld was in chaos; hundreds of different demons were all competing for power, trying to kill the most people to gave others allegiance. The witches weren't doing much better either; the people the demons where killing was them.

It was about then that Wyatt started sneaking out at night. No one apart from Chris had noticed. Uncle Coop and Henry had been too busy trying to cope with caring for eight children, and the overwhelming grief that came from the loss of their wives. Chris hadn't told them, thinking that Wyatt was probably taking out his grief on a few demons. Though he himself didn't approve of it, he could hardly blame his brother for doing it; sometimes even he Chris 'responsibility' Halliwell wanted to go down to the underground and murder every demon that he could find. Little did he know, that Wyatt was meeting with demons, but for an entirely different- to recruit them.

When he had a big enough following, he had attacked. Both of Chris's uncles had died in the battle, trying to protect him and his cousins. Now they were all orphans. Well technically Wyatt and him did have a father, but he had never really been a part of Chris's life; just a figurehead, a person who he knew existed but wasn't therefore him when he needed him the most. And Chris really needed his Father now. During the battle Chris's cousins had managed to escape to safety. He on the other hand had not been so lucky. Instead Wyatt requested he joined his new dictatorship, so that they, as the charmed ones only sons, could rule together. And when Chris had (not so politely) declined, Wyatt had started torturing him, hoping that pain would be a good incentive.

This pattern had carried on for four months. Four months which had changed Chris completely. Because the torture had not only been physical but mental as well. Imagine being attacked over and over again by your elder brother, your best friend. Imagine seeing him kill countless people right before your eyes. When Chris had managed to get out of that dungeon he no longer had any trust in anyone else. He was on his own. And on his own he had to save the world. And his brother.

Slowly, stretching out his muscles from his cramped night sleep, Chris rose to his feet. He tentively sent out his mind, probing, to see if any danger was near. There was no one apart from a mortal, obvious with a death wish (you didn't walk the streets along at night, unless you wanted to get killed), around. Chris began to move down the street, wondering where he was going to find food tonight, when suddenly we sensed another human being. He quickly pulled into the nearest doorway, drowning himself in shadow so no one would be able to see him. Who was it? Or more relevantly, what was it? It wasn't a mortal, nor a witch or demon. It was something totally different than anything he had ever felt before. And it was heading straight for him.

"Stupefy" A quiet voice broke the otherwise silent street, accompanied a second later by a shaft of blue light. Before Chris could move, the shaft hit him, knocking him out instantaneously. As he fell the man moved forward. The dim light from the moon flashed across his face, revealing a pair of bright blue eyes. He approached the unconscious teenage, sighing gently.

"I am sorry about this Christopher, but I didn't think you would listen to me of your own free will".

He placed his hand on the boys shoulder and, in a blink of the eye, disappeared. The street was left deserted, bearing no evidence of the kidnapping which had just taken place.


	3. Chapter 3

Chris's head felt like it was being stamped out. Repeatedly. By an elephant. He groaned quietly, trying to piece together the events which had led to the pain. There had been a man, who wasn't a man. And then he had knocked Chris out, though Chris couldn't exactly remember how. He tried to concentrate, blocking out the pain. There had been a flash of blue, yes definitely blue, but there was something before that. The man had spoken, said some sort of spell or... Chris sat up quickly, ignoring his protesting head, and opened his eyes. He'd been knocked out by a _wizard._

"Ah, Christopher. I see you have finally woken up" an outwardly charming voice made Chris start violently. He swivelled his head quickly till he found the man who had spoke. The wizard who had kidnapped him. Whatever Chris had been expecting this wasn't it.

The man he saw was thin and tall, possessing a scrawny build. He also had a pair of twinkling blue eyes, which seemed to view Chris with some amusement. But that wasn't all- he had a beard. Measuring from Chin to knee, the beard was snowy white and dominated the man. Not only have I been kidnapped by a wizard, Chris thought, but he also turns out to be Santa.

"I suppose you are wondering where you are?"

"Actually I wondering who the hell are you? And why you decided it was necessary to abduct me?" Chris let his anger creep into his voice, all the while squaring up his opponent. The first chance he got, he was orbing far, far away, even if it did mean alerting Wyatt's wards.

"Yes, another pressing question. Well, my name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. And I was forced to... ah, abduct you because I have matters of grave importance to discuss with you".

Chris stared in disbelief at Dumbledore. "You knocked me out, then kidnapped me just so you could _talk_ to me? If that's your method of teaching I feel really sorry for your students"

"And would you have talked to me?"

Chris paused. He probably wouldn't have, but that didn't mean he was going to now. He had had enough of this loony old man, and his headache was starting to progress into a full blown migraine.

"Well you've had my impressive conversation for about 30 seconds now, so I think it's time for me to get going. Pleasure to meet you Dumbles, which I hope to never repeat" Chris rose swiftly to his feet, gave Dumbledore a mock bow, before orbing out. Or he tried to.

"You will find that you can't magically transport yourself in or out of this room, or in fact anywhere in Hogwarts. I'm afraid for the time being you are stuck her with me".

Chris felt his temper rise, and slowly take over. He had enough of his own problems to deal without getting involved in whatever this wizard was doing. He had to save his brother, save the whole of the wiccan and human worlds. And this teacher calmly saunters in and holds him against his will. Even more infuriating was the calmness of his voice and manner, like he was totally at ease with the situation. It was looking back at Dumbledore, who was viewing him now in a paternal, almost patronizing way, when Chris's temper finally broke. All the anguish, pain and betrayal, all the emotion he had been holding inside for over a year escaped. And was directed at Dumbledore, leaving the man pinned to the wall by Chris's telekinesis.

"Let me out! I'm nothing to do with your world or problems. Why don't you find some other random teenager to abduct and _talk_ with, because I'm not staying!"

Total silence filled the room, as Dumbledore surveyed the young man with sympathy, unconcerned by the fact that Chris's power still had him on the wall, his feet a good meter above the floor. He knew this boys story, knew how much he had lost, but that didn't change the fact that he, and the whole world, needed this boy.

"I suggest you control your temper, Mr Halliwell, as what I have to say to you affects both your world and mine"

Chris stared hard into the wizards blue eyes. They were sincere, and held a depth of knowledge. This man had known fear and pain, and he was feeling them again. Chris swore softly under his breath before releasing Dumbledore. His whitelighter genes made it impossible for him to ignore a human in trouble.

"Fine then, talk away But this doesn't mean I'm going to help you" With unconscious grace, Chris slumped back into a nearby chair.

Dumbledore also moved into a chair, all the while surveying Chris through his half moon spectacles.

"Over 15 years ago, during a time of great evil in the wizarding world, a prophecy was made. This prophecy concerns a boy..."

It was about lunchtime when Harry heard the front door of No.12 Grimwald place open, and then swiftly shut. Hoping to see a member of the Order, he, the Weasley's and Hermione all hurried for the stairs, trying to get a look. They were rewarded.

There in the hallway stood none other than Professor Dumbledore, and he wasn't alone. Next to him was a scruffy teenager, lanky with dark brown hair that hadn't seen a shower in a while. Curious, the teenagers crept closer to the scene. Almost like he had sensed them, the boy looked up revealing a piercing green pair of eyes. A sarcastic grin swept his face, though it didn't reach his startling gaze.

"I'm guessing you are the cavalry".


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry I haven't writen in a while. It's weird that now the holidays have started I have even less free time than when school was on. I'm trying to battle Chris and Hermione off as I picture them both as insanely clever people, and insanely clever people never react well to other insanely clever people (wow, I think I've just broken some kind of record for the most times a person can put insanely clever people in a sentence. Either that or a law...). Please review!**_

_**All rights to WB and J.K. Rowling**_

Chapter 3

As soon as Dumbledore and Chris had arrived they had been swept into an order meeting leaving Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys to wonder why an American teenager was allowed in when they were not. Harry was particularly hurt; hadn't he proved himself enough to Dumbledore with his almost yearly battles with Voldemort? What was so special about him?

They were forced to kick their heels in the corridor for the next half an hour with no way of hearing what was going on in the meeting (Crookshanks had stolen the extendable ears again). When the order finally exited the room Harry was shocked by the way they reacted to the boy. Snape took off almost as soon as the door had opened, real fear in his eyes. Molly Weasley seemed tied between maternal and survival instincts, commenting on the boy's scrawny appearance, and then stepping away like she expected to get hit. Lupin and Mr Weasley were also nervous though Harry swore he saw sympathy in their eyes when they look at the American. Sirus, of course, had a very different reaction.

"So Chris, sorry about the mess of the house, but I doubt my Mother knew what a duster was let alone how to use one. And that house elf is too busy looking creepy to do _anything_. Anyway there is a collection of children also staying here over the summer holidays..." Sirus chattered on leading Chris down the stairs to the kitchen. By the expression on the boy's face (Chris), Harry could tell he wasn't paying the least bit of attention. Instead he was viewing his surroundings with a critical gaze. Harry's anger increased; what right had this _Chris _to come in and disapprove of the head quarter's decoration. True it was not exactly nice, but still. He looked to his side to find all of the rest of the kids were also staring intently at the retreating form of the new guy; Harry wasn't the only one who was curious... They all hurried down to the kitchen when Mrs Weasley shouted for dinner.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. No one knew a suitable conversation to mention in front of Chris. And he wasn't helping the atmosphere at all. He just sat there picking at his food in a calm way which irritated Harry. Amazingly even Fred and George were quiet, sensing the uncertain currents that the dinner table seemed drenched in.

Harry looked down at his own food. Though Mrs Weasley had made toad in the whole, a personal favourite, he couldn't summon the energy or enthusiasm to eat. He wished now more than anything for Dumbledore to walk back in and explain what was going on, and who Chris was. But of course that wasn't going to happen...

"So you're the chosen one?" Chris's unexpected question took Harry by surprise. So much so that he barely managed to get out an incoherent reply. Chris's gaze bore into him in the same critical air that he'd viewed the furniture with, and Harry felt his temperature rising again.

"What's it too you away?" Everyone at the table heard the heat in Harry's voice, enough so that they stopped eating. The uncomfortable silence that had hung over the table since the meal began suddenly became torturous.

Chris slowly took a sip of his drink, his body language relaxed.

"Just curious" His American drawl was accompanied with a casual shrug and lazy grin, which showed he was amused by the whole incident. Harry forced his eyes back to his plate, taking his anger out on the mashed potato. He was very grateful when Ron came to his rescue- or at least tried to.

"So... you're from America?" Harry practically groaned at Ron's poor attempt to start a conversation, as did most of the table. Chris, on the other hand, just seemed even more amused.

"Really! I never knew that. Thank you so much for informing me!" Ron's face became as red as his hair at the heavy sarcasm in Chris's voice. Silence once again descended upon the table.

"You're a Wicca aren't you?" Hermione's question (which was more of a statement) caused Chris's calm appearance to melt for a few seconds.

"What would make you say that?" Chris's voice was sharp and controlled, and Harry could suddenly see the person that would make Snape run away with his tail between his legs. Chris was dangerous, and part of that was due to him being a Wicca, whatever that was. Hermione only raised her eyebrows at Chris's impolite tone, before answering him in a voice which was clear and logical, with no fear attached.

"Only you come from America, a country which possesses a lot more Wiccans than Wizards. You are not carrying a wand because you don't need one for your magic. You also flinched when Mrs Weasley used magic to make the meal; you don't approve of it because Wiccans believe in personal gain", She paused to take a bite of her meal, mimicking Chris's earlier sip, "Oh, and if you were really a wizard you wouldn't need to ask who Harry is" Smugness radiated from Hermione as she surveyed Chris as if he were a very interesting book. Chris returned her gaze for a few seconds before leaning back on his chair.

"Congratulations Miss Granger, you've just solved Cluedo! How did you know I had used the lead piping?"

Hermione, being muggle born and able to understand Chris's job, coloured slightly but didn't lower her gaze.

"So what are you doing here? America's at war. Wiccans should be lying low rather than interacting in the wizarding world..." Hermione was interrupted when Chris suddenly got to his feet .

"Thank you so much Ms Weasley for the lovely meal, but I'm afraid I'm a bit tired. Jet lag and all. I'll see you in the morning". Without waiting for a reply, Chris had left the kitchen, presumably for his own bedroom, and the table was once again plunged into silence, broken by Mrs Weasley in an attempt to salvage the evening.

"Right then, anyone want seconds...?"


End file.
